


I'll Be There

by CaptainErica



Category: Big Bang (Band), K-pop
Genre: M/M, Supernatural AU - Freeform, daesung is the best, gd the writer, i'm sorry i want scary werewolf times now this had to end, werewolf youngbae again whoops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-26
Updated: 2016-09-26
Packaged: 2018-08-17 08:57:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8138116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainErica/pseuds/CaptainErica
Summary: Jiyong wakes up in a cold sweat; he'd had the dream again, the one with the hauntingly beautiful man standing in the window of his room, silhouetted by the light of the moon. He had that look in his eyes, too. That one that screamed he'd take you and you wouldn't be able to say no.It's Youngbae, though, and there's nothing to fear from Youngbae.





	

On the hill at the edge of town is an old Victorian house. It’s three stories high with a weathervane on top and a severely pitched roof in some places. It’s black and grey and lilac in color, and only minimally in disrepair. The people of the town talk about the old owners who left their son in charge of it when they left for a warmer climate; talk about how the young man didn’t know  _ how _ to take care of a beautiful house like that. He’s  _ young _ , they say over their coffee cups at the diner. He’s  _ young _ and  _ rich _ and they don’t understand how he came into the money he reportedly has.

“I heard it was stocks.” one of the older men says, his eyes staring down the group. There’s a  _ harrumph _ of disagreement and a little old lady taps her cane against the ground.

“ _ Stocks? _ Why my Mabel says it’s  _ writing. _ You know, he’s a famous  _ writer. _ ”

The argument would go on all day, but they’re old and they’ve other people to discuss. Youngbae, however,  _ isn’t _ all that old, and he really  _ doesn’t _ have all that much to discuss today. He turns to his companion and tilts his head toward the group. “Do you know anything about the kid who took over the house by the graveyard?” He asks.

Daesung laughs, shaking his head. “You shouldn’t eavesdrop.” He says, amusement on his face. Youngbae rolls his eyes, ready to protest, but Daesung continues. “Nah, I haven’t heard anything specific. He moved out when he graduated high school and moved back when his parents decided to move down south.”

Youngbae shakes his head. “I gathered that much.” he says with a flat look, which only makes Daesung chuckle.

“He’s not really a  _ kid, _ I think he’s your age.” He says, and  _ that’s _ the kind of information Youngbae was looking for.

“So his parents just left him alone with the house a few months ago?”

Daesung sighs, rolling his eyes. “He came back just before you left for your ‘trip to find yourself’ or whatever you were doing. He’s been there ever since.”

Youngbae frowns but drops the subject. He’s interested though, and it occupies his thoughts for the rest of the day and well into the night. It keeps him occupied while he’s running with Daesung that night, and when he wakes up the next morning, the first thing he thinks about is that  _ boy _ and the house at the edge of town.

He’d struck out on his own about a year ago, he recalls, his mind whirring. It had been a long trip that he probably wouldn’t replicate anytime soon, but he had the memories, and the scars, to show that he  _ could _ if he so chose. He shakes his head and his mind falls back on the house and the  _ boy _ . He’s honestly not sure why he’s so interested in it, really. He knew very few people in the town outside of his pack. They had moved to the town when he was still a child, but the area is big enough that he hadn’t gone to school with anyone from this side of town, so it’s not like he would have met the guy  _ there _ .

Not to mention the fact that he hadn’t gone to school for very long before the adults in the pack had decided that ‘home-schooling’ would be a better idea. Their frequent absences had made it hard to stay in a normal school, or make friends with any of the local children. Because of this, any contact he had with anyone his own age was divided between the few he’d grown up with in his pack, and the people he met while working. He had two jobs, though, so even if he ‘met’ someone at work, he never hung out with them.

Of course, it was more than just his jobs that kept him from hanging out with people he met; being a pack member didn’t help. He sighs, then, scrubbing a hand over his face and forcing those thoughts away. He wanted to know more about the guy who’d taken over the beautiful house on the edge of town, for a reason that he cannot fathom. Good.

He doesn’t have to work today, so he can take a jog up past the house and around the graveyard that sits next to it. Maybe he’ll see the guy that lives there and his curiosity will be assuaged.

***

Jiyong stares at the coffee maker sitting on the counter. It’s 8:30am and he’s been staring at it for 4 minutes and it has only dripped out less than a cup’s worth of coffee in that time. He sighs, then swipes a hand over his bleary eyes; he might need a new coffee maker.

He’d fallen asleep at his desk again, his eyes fighting his need to stay awake and finish correcting. He had four books he needed to finish reviewing, and then he had his own most recent monstrosity to contend with. When he was in a writing bend, he kept weird hours and relied heavily on coffee...something that his little coffee pot was not currently supplying him with at a rate that would keep him happy. 

While he waits, he decides to step outside and see if fresh air will do anything to help him. It never has in the past, but he can’t get any work done as he is now, so it won’t  _ hurt _ him.

The front porch of his family’s old Victorian house takes up the entire front of the building. It’s covered, and wide, and his father had always made sure to put out the deck furniture every spring and drag it out back to the shed every fall. Jiyong had pulled up two of the chairs that Spring and ignored the rest because he was alone most of the time and rarely, if ever, had company. That, and the porch swing was too heavy for him to move alone and he had no idea how his father used to get it up there.

He sighs, looking out over the road that lead into town. He liked this house. It was great for his writing because there was little in the town that interested him outside of nostalgia, and nobody really bothered him. Any friends he’d had as a child had all moved away or he’d lost touch with them so completely that if he  _ did _ run into them while in town, he tended not to remember them (or he tried to hide from them).

He’s considering sitting down in one of the chairs when he sees someone jogging up the road. From this distance he can’t really tell much about them, but finding nothing else to focus on, his sluggish mind decides that he should be interested. They don’t seem to be slowing down any, he thinks, so he’ll get a better view of them when they make it up the hill to the part of the road that sweeps around his house to the right and toward the graveyard; it’s the part of the road closest to the porch.

He heaves out a sigh and moves over to the edge of the porch closest to the road, leaning forward against the railing. As the person comes up the road, Jiyong notes that it’s a man. A very  _ attractive _ man. Jiyong lets his eyes roam over the man as he jogs up the road, taking in the broad shoulders and muscular arms visible because of the white tank top the man is wearing.

He sighs again, this time in appreciation, as he takes in what he can see of the man’s profile: beautiful. He’s all hard lines and smooth planes. The man turns his head suddenly, his eyes finding Jiyong’s despite the distance, and somehow this is  _ worse _ to look at. It makes Jiyong’s heart beat just a little bit faster and his mind jolt into alertness. The look is brief, but the man’s face is jarringly beautiful and everything altogether is just a little too much for his sleepy brain.

He steps back from the railing, hand coming up to his heart, before he turns back inside; anxious and jittery. There’s almost 2 cups worth of coffee in the pot. He considers crying, but pours himself a huge mug instead and goes up to his study.

***

Youngbae’s mouth falls open and he  _ actually _ breaks into a sweat.

The man living in the Victorian house was  _ beautiful. _ There were no other words to describe him, and honestly he didn’t really think it worth  _ trying _ to come up with another description for him. He’d caught sight of him as he’d come up around the bend, and had been surprised at his own luck that the man was standing outside that morning. 

Pouty lips, tired eyes, smooth skin….the man was clearly not a morning person, but he was just as clearly gorgeous. Youngbae blinks, trying to clear his head, and continues on into the graveyard. He rarely felt that attracted to anyone, and the power of it is a little overwhelming. He slows down into a leisurely walk, and winds his way around the tombstones. 

He’s there for only a few turns through the stones when he feels eyes on him. He looks up at the Victorian house, his eyes trailing along the lines of the second floor until they land on a window that he can see a silhouette behind. He smiles, suddenly, but forces himself to look away to continue his walk. 

He jogs back into town and then out home after a complete turn of the graveyard. He’s out of breath but smiling, surprised by how happy such a small, and really almost insignificant amount of interaction had made him. 

***

At 9:08am the next morning, Jiyong unplugs his coffee maker and considers throwing it out the window onto the side lawn.

He heaves out a sigh, swipes a hand across his eyes, and makes a slight growling noise in the back of his throat. He  _ needs  _ coffee to be able to do his work, but he also needed it in order to feel human this morning. He sighs and turns toward the front of the house, scooping up his keys from their hook by the door and grabbing his wallet from the low table in the entryway. He steps outside, gets in his car, and presses his head back against the seat, trying to will himself into being ready to go out.

He needs a new coffee maker, however, so he can’t  _ not _ go out.

He makes his way into town and parks at the general store furthest from his house; less likely for anyone to recognize him. He gets out and heads inside. He stops in front of the small appliance section, his eyes roaming over the choices. There really aren’t many, but he’s picky when faced with even  _ one _ extra possibility. He’s standing there for only a little while when he feels someone come up beside him. 

“Need help?” A soothing, masculine voice asks. Jiyong blinks, trying to refocus his attention, and looks over at the man. He notes, with some alarm, that this is the same man he’d seen jogging up to the graveyard the day before.

One of Jiyong’s hands creeps up to rub at the back of his neck. “Ah, I’m just looking for a coffee maker.” he says, hoping he sounds more awake and alert than he feels.

The man smiles, a bright look that makes Jiyong want to smile too. “Well, then you’re definitely in the right place.” he says, soft but bright. Jiyong appreciates the tone, as his head is still trying to wrap around being awake. “How about this one.” The man says, grabbing one of the boxes before him when Jiyong doesn’t move.

He looks at it, his eyes taking a short moment to focus, and he shrugs, looking back up at the man tentatively. “Sure?” He says, noting that it comes out more as a question than the agreement he’d meant it as.

The man chuckles companionably, and nods firmly. “Yes, and meanwhile, you should probably grab some coffee up at the front.” He says, sending Jiyong a little wink. Jiyong stumbles after him, surprised and a little flushed. 

He hadn’t had  _ this _ kind of attention in a  _ while _ . Mostly, he muses as he pours himself a cup of coffee, his eyes sliding over secretly to watch the man at the counter, he had  _ zero _ attention. He only had attention when he went out for book tours and release parties. He scowls at the cup of coffee in his hands: he hates release parties. He pulls in a deep breath, then turns to go to the counter.

“Ready?” The man says, and Jiyong nods, his eyes falling from the man’s face to the man’s chest. There’s a name tag there: Youngbae. He smiles a little to himself, then looks up again, not wanting to be caught staring at  _ Youngbae’s _ broad chest. “Will this be all?”

“Yeah.” Jiyong replies, looking down at the box and the coffee in his hand. “Everything I could need.” He says, and Youngbae laughs.

“That’s quite true.” He says. He pauses after the transaction, no one else is in the store, so when he leans forward and places an elbow on the coffee maker box Jiyong is only a little surprised. “I’m Youngbae.” He says, the smile on his face bright and catching. “You new in town?” He asks, and Jiyong feels a light flush start to creep up his neck.

“Ah, I’m Jiyong.” he says, a little embarrassed. “And no, I’m from here I just…” He trails off and waves vaguely in the direction of his house. “I live in the house by the graveyard on the other side of town.”

“Ah, yes.” Youngbae says, eyes glittering with friendly amusement. “While I do appreciate the business, what brought you all the way out to this humble establishment? There are at least two other stores closer to you.”

Jiyong’s hand finds the back of his neck again and he shrugs, fighting his embarrassment down. “I didn’t want to see anyone I knew.” He says, truthfully and with only a little wince.

Youngbae barks out a laugh, and the sound somehow doesn’t bother Jiyong. He smiles back at Youngbae and shrugs again. “Well, I hope to see you again, Jiyong.” Youngbae says, his smile falling a few notches back to just  _ friendly. _

“Yeah...have a good day.” He says, a small smile on his face as he walks out. He drives home with the stupid smile on his face, and pulls into his driveway with it still firmly in place.

He’s wrestling the coffee maker out of the box when the smile finally slips; but it’s honestly the most Jiyong’s smiled in  _ years _ , and that’s really sad, considering he’s only barely 28. He sets the new machine up on his counter, and then takes the coffee he’d bought up to his study with him; he could get some writing done now.

***

Youngbae lets the smile slip from his face when Jiyong leaves the store. There’s a faint sheen of sweat on his brow, and he’s honestly very proud of himself for having held onto his control for so long. He’d wanted to keep Jiyong in the store longer, but they didn’t know each other, and Jiyong was clearly not used to prolonged encounters like that. 

He shakes his head again and the sappy smile that had slowly started to form falls off and a panicky feeling creeps into him. Jiyong smelled like anxiety and tangerines. Like fresh-brewed, bitter coffee, and chocolate. He smelled like heaven and home and there was a little bit of sin mixed in there for good measure. Youngbae groans, his head falling forward and his hair falling into his eyes.

He can’t afford to obsess over a human just because they smell interesting. And are gorgeous. And sweet? Jiyong seemed like a very sweet and kind…

He shakes his head firmly and looks around the empty store. No one would be in until his shift was over, and then he’d have an hour before he went to work at the pack’s resort.

Youngbae finds himself on a trail-clearing run with Daesung after arriving at the resort.

“Someone tripped on a stick.” Daesung says, rolling his eyes despite the smile still firmly on his face. Youngbae snorts out an incredulous laugh then follows Daesung out onto the trail. “Something happened.” Daesung says after an hour. “You’re unnaturally quiet and I’m frankly concerned.”

Youngbae pauses, and then sighs loudly. “You know that guy who lives in the Victorian by the graveyard?” He asks, his hand coming up to rest on the back of his neck; like he’s guilty of something.

Daesung raises an eyebrow at him, but continues cleaning up the area they’ve stopped in. “Yeah.” He says slowly, cautiously.

Youngbae bites his lip and then shakes his head. “I dunno, i’m being stupid.” he says, but Daesung just raises an eyebrow at him. “I went on a run past his house yesterday, and this morning he came into the shop.” He pauses, a smile crossing his face briefly at the memory. “He’s hot.” he says after a pause where he tries to decide what to say. He blushes almost immediately after, though, as Daesung bursts out into laughter.

“He’s ‘ _ hot’ _ ?” He asks, still laughing, and Youngbae runs his hand over his face in embarrassment.

“God but he  _ is _ .” He mumbles through his hand, and Daesung lets out a sudden bark of laughter. Youngbae shoves him, and then returns to cleaning the path, hoping Daesung will drop the topic.

He doesn’t.

By the time they’re back at the main building, Youngbae’s eyes are set and his mouth is in a flat, straight line. He’s amused, somewhere deep down, because he knows that his admission was ridiculous, but he  _ meant it _ so he’s just a little bitter that Daesung is making fun of him.

“I’m going for a run.” He says, and Daesung throws a bright smile up at him.

“Say hi to Jiyong for me.” He says, and Youngbae pushes him into the grass on his way by.

He takes one of the trails that cuts around the edges of town before popping out on the edge of the field that meets up with the graveyard. He prefers this path, as he doesn’t have to run past any cars or people, but he realizes that it might be a little weird if Jiyong were to see him in the graveyard without having seen him coming up the hill first. He shakes his head of those thoughts; Jiyong had seen him jogging by yesterday, it won’t seem weird for him to be there today.

Except that he’d just met Jiyong this morning, and been told where Jiyong lives. 

Except that  _ yesterday _ he’d run in the morning, not the late afternoon/evening.

Except that he  _ wanted _ to see Jiyong in a way that he hadn’t wanted to see anyone in anyway ever.

He pauses in his run as he crests the hill. He’s in front of the gates to the graveyard, and he leans forward to put his hands on his knees while he breathes for a moment. He wasn’t here to see Jiyong, he reminds himself forcefully. He was just here because it was a good run and he wanted to get away from the pack and Daesung for a little bit.

He stands upright after a moment, and makes his way into the graveyard to pass between the rows. He’s not really paying attention to what he’s doing, but the slowness calms him.

“Do you often walk through graveyards at night?” a voice says from off to his right. A smile pushes onto his face, and he shakes his head, knocking his hair into his face.

“I wouldn’t quite call now  _ night. _ ” He says, pushing his hands into the pockets of his jeans. He notes, then, that he’d run there in his jeans and without a shirt. A blush fights its way up his neck, and he lets it win.

Jiyong snorts, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans back against one of the fence columns. “It’s quite dark.” He says, eyes darting up to the sky where the moon was still low and the horizon was still light. “I didn’t see you come up the road…” He adds, almost tentative.

Youngbae shrugs, moving closer slowly. The moon was half full and he didn’t like the reminder just then. “I run here often.” He starts, leaning against the column closest to Jiyong. “There’s a trail from the resort that leads out over there.” He nods in the direction he came from, turning to look at Jiyong as he does. 

Jiyong tilts his head to look at him. “The resort?” He asks, but then he shakes his head. “Do you live there?” He asks, and Youngbae pulls in a quick breath through his nose before he nods.

“Yeah, live and work.” He says, shrugging lightly. 

Jiyong smiles, and Youngbae wonders if he’s only so comfortable because he thinks that Youngbae can’t see him as well in the dark (he can, though). “It’s not as fun to work where you live as I thought it would be.” He says after a moment, and Youngbae nods, his bottom lip poking out in a kind of thoughtful pout.

“I’ve always done it, so I can’t say if I ever thought it would be better than the alternative.” He says companionably. “What do you do?” He asks, and Jiyong shifts against the post, his hands dropping to push into his pockets.

“I write.” he says quietly, “and I edit and review…” He waves one of his hands in front of him vaguely, a gesture that seems like it might be common for him to do.

“I’ve never met a writer before.” Youngbae says, a grin quirking up the corner of his mouth. 

Jiyong blushes, and Youngbae’s eyes widen slightly in delight. “No, well I guess you now have.” He says, a small embarrassed bow following the proclamation.

Youngbae grins fully, a small chuckle bubbling up behind it. “I feel honored, truly. What do you write?” He asks, wanting to stretch out the conversation. 

Jiyong shrugs, pushing away from the column and coming a little closer, the dark seeming to get to him a little. “Nothing really important.” He says, then, quieter. “Or even very good.” 

Youngbae laughs, reaching out to touch his shoulder lightly without really thinking about it. “I doubt that, but humility is always good to see.” He says, still chuckling. 

Jiyong shrugs, blushing. Youngbae drops his hand from Jiyong’s shoulder. “Come inside?” Jiyong asks, and Youngbae is surprised; Jiyong seems surprised also.

His grin turns into a bit of a smirk, his eyes darting quickly up to the sky and the half moon. “Yeah, sure.” he says, turning to follow Jiyong down the hill and into the house.

***

If anyone were to ask, and the only person that might would be Seungri and he’s not ever going to hear about this, he would say that he was struck momentarily dumb by Youngbae’s beauty. Scratch that, he thinks, he would absolutely  _ not _ tell Seungri that he was  _ struck dumb _ by someone’s  _ beauty _ . He’s far too proud of a writer to use that kind of meager description for Youngbae. He’s also far too proud of a  _ person _ to ever tell anyone that he’d been struck dumb by something as cliche as a man’s beauty.

That and it had been dark and easy to be bold because they couldn’t see each other; so the blush riding high on his cheeks and passing harshly down his neck wasn’t visible to Youngbae. It’s harder to hide that in the light of his kitchen as he passes Youngbae a glass of water and scrounges around for something to snack on. 

“It’s beautiful in here.” Youngbae says, leaning casually against the counter as if he were frequently asked into people’s homes like this, which is likely considering how attractive he is. Jiyong hums in agreement, watching as Youngbae’s eyes take in the room. “I knew it was big, but I hadn’t really been able to picture just  _ how big _ it is.”

Jiyong laughs lightly, his eyes tracing around the kitchen briefly. “My grandparents lived with us when I was really young.” He says, his fingers tapping against the edge of the counter he’s leaning against. “It never felt really big until they left, and now…” He trails off, realizing as he does that he’s allowed the conversation to get sad. 

Youngbae nods, tilting his head to the side a little, his eyes on him like he’s trying to figure him out. “Now you’re here alone.” He sighs. “That sounds wonderful, actually. I’ve never really been alone.” He says, and Jiyong leans forward, interested. “I was for about six months, but I was travelling so...that’s different.” He shakes his head, his hair falling back into his eyes. The smile that graces his face then mixes with the hair in his eyes and Jiyong thinks that it gives Youngbae this rakish look that he’s never really actually seen on anyone before.

They talk for another hour about how Youngbae has almost always lived at the resort and his friends and why he’s working at the general store (boredom, apparently). Jiyong is very proud of himself for not staring at Youngbae’s broad, muscular, and very  _ naked _ chest. But Youngbae’s phone buzzes suddenly, and he looks down at it surprised, and the easy atmosphere shifts as Jiyong suddenly starts agonizing over how they’d say goodbye.

“Looks like I’m  _ missed. _ ” he says, an apologetic smile on his face. “I should get going. But I’ll probably see you around, I run up here often.” 

Jiyong nods, the tension he’d been feeling draining away from him slowly. He smiles, just a little, and he follows Youngbae to the door. It’s when he puts his hand on Youngbae’s arm to wish him a goodnight and tell him to be safe that it happens.

Youngbae’s arm tenses under the contact, and he turns wide eyes up at Jiyong, before schooling his features so quickly that Jiyong almost misses it. “Yes, I’ll...I’ll be safe.” he says, just a little shaky. He nods to Jiyong and then slips out the door and Jiyong just stands there, wondering what had just happened and why his hand still felt so  _ warm _ and  _ tingling. _

***

Youngbae doesn’t tell Daesung.

Youngbae feels like he  _ should _ tell Daesung as the younger man starts telling him about a possible date he’s set up for them a week later. Instead, he shakes his head, says ‘no’, and goes out for a jog.

He sees Jiyong  _ every day _ .

It’s been a week since the moon was at half, and he’s only got a couple more days before it enters into that period where it’s dangerously close to being full so he can’t be around anyone but his pack.

He sees Jiyong at different times of day, all dependent on when he has a moment to run out to the graveyard. He was worried the first day, after he’d left so abruptly, but Jiyong had ambled out after only a few minutes, and his worries had washed away.

Well,  _ those worries _ had washed away. The fresh  _ new _ worries that he was currently refusing to tell Daesung about? Those worries were always there, and every friendly touch and soft smile Jiyong sent his way made them  _ worse _ .

“Oh, Daesung, sorry I bailed on you without a reason.” Youngbae mutters to himself as he trudges up the forest side of the hill toward the graveyard. “It’s just, I’ve found my mate, and wouldn’t you know it, he’s  _ human _ .” He mutters, punctuating the last word with an idle kick at a rock. He gets to the top of the hill and presses his head against the gate, feeling stupid and ridiculous. 

The full moon is fast approaching, so all of his senses are stronger. He smells Jiyong approaching long before the man is close enough to see him acting like an idiot. He straightens himself up, and shakes out his shoulders. He’s a little sweaty, like he normally is, but it’s worse tonight, and will be even worse the night after: the moon is coming, he’s found his mate, everything about this situation is uncomfortable and extra. He twitches again, his leather jacket feeling like over kill. He hadn’t run there today, however, and it  _ was _ chilly out...for humans.

He sighs and runs a hand through his short hair. If he’s lucky, Jiyong won’t notice the difference in smell, or the fact that he’s basically dressed like they’re going on a date and he’s some bad ass come to sweep the good boy off his feet. He laughs at himself, running a nervous hand over his face;  _ get it together _ .

“Youngbae!” Jiyong calls, waving at him excitedly from the path leading to the house. Youngbae smiles, his hand dropping to his side.

“Hey!” He calls out, walking over to meet him.

“I didn’t expect to see you until later, I thought you had to work?” He says when they’re closer. He looks around for a second then shrugs and sits down on the recently-mown grass at the edge of the fence. Youngbae sits down beside him, his heart beating faster and his nose tingling.

“I did, but we finished up early and Daesung tried to trick me into going out with him...so I left.” he says it lightly, but then feels awkward because he hadn’t  _ meant _ to tell Jiyong that he’d run away from Daesung.

Jiyong turns an amused but questioning smile on him. “Does Daesung have a crush on you?” He asks, then “Not that I’d blame him if you were wearing  _ this _ to work.” He plucks at the sleeve of Youngbae’s leather jacket, and Youngbae laughs, his eyes falling almost shut.

“No, no Daesung definitely doesn’t like me.” He says, bringing a hand up to rub the back of his neck in embarrassment. “And I wasn’t wearing this  _ during _ work…” he trails off then coughs, a little embarrassed.

Jiyong smiles at him, then chuckles. “Did you ride your motorcycle up here then? Or did you run here like normal?”

Youngbae bites his lip, his face going red in embarrassment even as his brain notes that Jiyong smells just a little bit different than just moments before. “I walked.” He mumbles, and Jiyong laughs, his hand dropping against Youngbae’s sleeve as he does so.

Familiar tingles crawl out from the place Jiyong’s hand touches to hit every part of his body. He closes his eyes briefly, trying to make it seem like he’s calming down from the laughing so that Jiyong won’t notice him flush and the way he shivers and tenses at the contact. 

“I should drive you back tonight. It gets dark so quickly.” Jiyong says, a slight sound of disapproval coloring his words. Youngbae isn’t sure what he disapproves of, but he shakes his head anyway.

“No, I like the walk. It’s good for me.” He says lightly. He doesn’t add that he can see better than Jiyong, or that at this point in the month there was nothing and no one who would mess with him without leaving the worst for wear.

Jiyong chuckles. “Like  _ you _ need anymore exercise.” He teases, hand moving up to squeeze just a little around Youngbae’s upper arm. “But if you would really rather walk back home…” He trails off and shrugs, amusement in his eyes.

Youngbae shrugs too, leaning back so that his arms are holding him up behind him. Jiyong’s hand falls from his arm, and Youngbae is kind of okay with that. “Yeah, I’ll be fine, I promise.” He says.

They’re talking about the stars and it’s hours later. They’re lying back on the grass and their heads are touching, and Youngbae’s whole body is thrumming with awareness but he’s too happy and comfortable to move. He can’t keep lying to himself though. He knows, deep down that he can’t be with Jiyong. He knows that all he would do is cause Jiyong pain. 

He closes his eyes suddenly, a small hitch in his breathing clearly audible over the silence they’d lapsed into. Youngbae feels Jiyong shift beside him, and wills his eyes open.

“Are you okay?” Jiyong asks, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes are soft and sad and worry is woven throughout his whole demeanor. His smell changes, and it forces Youngbae to note that there had been a light, breathy scent overlying the normal smell (chocolate, tangerines, coffee). That scent is gone now, or just so much more faint that it’s impossible for him to pick it out, as it clouds over with a small amount of the bitter smell of Jiyong’s anxiety.

Youngbae reaches out a hand and lets it catch on Jiyong’s arm, sliding down slowly in what he hopes is a soothing manner. “I’m fine, just had a thought.” He brings his other hand up to cover his face briefly. “I have to spend a few nights camping with the resort coming up.” He says, softly. He feels Jiyong shift beside him again, catching Youngbae’s hand in his own (his heart skips a beat). “I hate it.” He says, his nose scrunching up in distaste.

Jiyong laughs, both hands holding onto Youngbae’s, thumb running idly over the knuckles. “Camping, or the trip itself?” He asks.

Youngbae shrugs. “At the moment I hate them both.” He mutters. “Five days.” He says softly. “We do it every month.” This isn’t a lie but it isn’t the truth and it’s the hardest thing he’s ever had to say to anyone.

Jiyong hums, fingers playing with Youngbae’s hand. “Even in the winter?” He asks, and Youngbae nods.

“Every month.” He says, and then can’t help himself from adding: “and every once in a great while, twice in one month.”

***

It’s the morning after the first night of the full moon and Youngbae wakes up on the path that leads from the resort to the graveyard. He’s shaky and unsteady and his mind is uneasy and he makes his way back to the lodge carefully and as quietly as he can.

“You didn’t tell me you’d found your mate.” Daesung says as he cuts a piece of steak into small pieces. He seems unconcerned and only a little on edge, which doesn’t make Youngbae feel any better.

They’re all on edge, though. The morning after the first night of the moon is rough. They don’t turn until the actual full moon, but it doesn’t stop them from getting close. It’s like easing into it. They start the cycle off slow, and it builds up til the night of, and then it eases off again. Youngbae runs a hand over his face, leaning forward on the table.

“I don’t know what you mean.” he mumbles.

Daesung rolls his eyes, but it’s lost on Youngbae who’s not looking. “I’m not an idiot.” He says, and Youngbae winces. “You smell different.” He says, and Youngbae lets out a sigh. “And you broke out of the confines last night, stumbling off who knows where…”

Youngbae shakes his head. “I didn’t get far.” He says, squeezing his eyes shut. “Just part way down the path to the graveyard.”

Daesung pulls in a surprised breath, then leans forward, his steak almost forgotten. “The man in the Victorian house?” He asks, and Youngbae pauses for a moment before he nods. “Oh, Youngbae…” He trails off.

“I know. I  _ know. _ ” He grumbles rubbing his hands over his face again before looking up at him. “He’s human, I  _ know. _ ” Youngbae sighs. “I haven’t told him...I don’t think...It’s just not…” He doesn’t really know what he wants to say.

“You want him to decide he likes you, too.” Daesung says, and Youngbae shrugs. 

“It just feels so natural, being around him...I want him to think so too.”

They eat in silence after that; companionable, but with a hint of contemplation. They keep Youngbae extra locked up the next three nights, and he barely fights at all against it on the third night so they let their guard down on the final night of the full moon.

He’s still  _ human. _ If you looked at him, smart, black button up shirt with black jeans and boots, you wouldn’t think that anything was wrong. You’d be incorrect, but understandably so. His mind is only slightly there from the time of moonrise to the time of moonset. It’s the last night of the full moon cycle and he’s in his own body for it but his mind is still adjusting...still  _ wolf. _

It’s late when he makes his way out of the woods and into the graveyard. Dark and quiet, he stalks amongst the stones, his eyes trailing up to the Victorian house with every turn. He’s restless and wandering and he  _ knows _ that something in that house is what he’s looking for. He makes his way there slowly, haltingly; like he knows he shouldn’t but he can’t figure out why.

The front door is locked, and he considers giving up but then he smells it: coffee, chocolate, tangerines. There’s something else mixed in there, but this is comforting, this is  _ home.  _ He can’t give up now, and his eyes trail over the house and then he sees it: an open window on the second floor.

It’s more like a doorway, but it doesn’t matter, he doesn’t care. He climbs up to the small balcony outside the doorway, and stands there for a second;  _ coffee, chocolate, tangerines. _

Youngbae moves to the open door, eyes searching through it for the origin of the smell. His eyes land on the bed, and he creeps forward, his mind locked on the form he can see beneath the covers of the large bed. His head tilts to the side as he stops at the end. He wants to be closer but he knows he shouldn’t. He can’t get closer.

The form on the bed shifts, a sigh escaping sleepy lips and Youngbae’s suddenly at the side of the bed, leaning forward and over the form; as close as he dares be. He’s as close as the rational side of his mind will let him. He’s close enough that if he had any less self-control he’d lean in and press his lips to the bare skin before him.

The form moves again, eyelids fluttering, and Youngbae backs off. He looks around him, worry seeping in, before he rushes out of the room and down to the front door. He takes a deep breath, fighting his own instincts to try and get out of there, and then pulls open the door, escaping into the woods as quickly as he can.

Daesung finds him hours later when their minds have all cleared. He’s lying on his bed, his face pressed into his pillow; breathing harsh and uneven like he’d been crying.

“You didn’t hurt him.” Daesung whispers gently, sitting down beside him and placing a hand on his back. Youngbae just groans in response, burying his face further into his pillow. “He’s your  _ mate,  _ Youngbae, you can’t blame yourself for wanting to see him.”

Youngbae shifts so that his face is visible to Daesung. “But I  _ could have _ and that's physically painful to know.”

Daesung sighs, because he understands that; has learned about what it means to be mated and what it's like when you find yours. He’s quiet for a moment, and Youngbae presses his eyes tightly shut. “Maybe you need to tell him, Youngbae. You live in the same town…”  _ It could happen again.  _ It’s not said, but it’s implied. It’s there behind the gentle hand on Youngbae’s back.

But it’s more than that. It’s  _ more  _ than it  _ could _ happen again. Because it absolutely  _ would _ happen again if he didn’t do something about the situation. 

“How do you tell someone who’s likely never believed in werewolves that not only do they exist, but you  _ are _ one and they’re your mate?” He asks, sullen and pouty about an hour later. Daesung had convinced him to leave his bed and get something to eat.

Daesung laughs. “You know, they never covered that in all our lessons.” He says, and Youngbae nods, making a noise of agreement. “But when someone is your mate, you are also theirs; that’s what they always say.” He leans forward and looks Youngbae directly in the eyes. “He may not know that that is what he’s feeling, but if he’s your mate...you’re also his.”

This makes Youngbae feel only marginally better about the whole situation.

He walks the trail to the graveyard, his heart slamming against his chest and feeling the most anxious and worried he’s felt in quite a long time. He’s at the graveyard before he even really knows it, and he shifts side to side for a moment, uncertain if he should keep walking and take a turn around the gravestones, or if he should sit down on the grass there and wait for Jiyong to maybe come out. He shifts between his feet again, and then takes in a deep breath; a little more walking won’t hurt.

He pushes through the gate and walks up one row before he smells it. It’s still close to the full moon, so he really should have noticed the smell before, but he’d been so mired in his own self-loathing that he’d not been paying attention. 

Jiyong is already there.

He looks around, and his eyes eventually spot him, leaning forward over one of the posts at the edge of the graveyard closest to his house. Youngbae’s head clears briefly, his heart feeling suddenly lighter at the sight, and he makes his way over there with barely more than a thought. 

“Fancy seeing you here.” he says as nonchalantly as possible, leaning back against the post next to Jiyong’s.

It takes a moment for Jiyong to turn to him, clearly lost in thought, but when he does, his face goes from distant and contemplative, to open and bright; and Youngbae isn’t certain he’s ever seen anything more beautiful in his entire life.

“Youngbae!” He says, bright, surprised,  _ happy.  _ “I hadn't expected you until at least tomorrow…” He says, but then immediately blushes and Youngbae grins.

“We were done this morning.” He says with a shrug, as if it's no big deal. 

Jiyong's smile dips a little, something far away coming into his eyes. “I had an interesting dream last night.” He says after a few moments, and Youngbae’s jaw clenches slightly.

“Oh yeah?” He asks. He’s still smiling, somehow, despite the massive amount of stress that just shot down his spine.

Jiyong tilts his head, looking up at him. “Yeah. I can’t explain it. It’s like I was being looked at by someone...some _ thing _ familiar and…” He trails off and Youngbae bites his lip.

“That doesn’t sound...good.” He says, and Jiyong shakes his head.

“No, it felt  _ safe. _ Just...it was so real feeling, you know?” He shakes his head again. “I guess that’s what I get for being in that big old house alone, huh?” he says. “Weird feelings like someone’s watching me in my sleep.” He sighs, and Youngbae pulls in a careful breath.

***

“I guess.” Youngbae says with a shrug, and Jiyong lets his eyes search Youngbae’s face.

He’s surprised with himself, really, that he’d even managed to get this much out about the dream he’d had the night before. Purposefully vague as he was being, it still felt like Youngbae may figure out who he’d been dreaming of. That he’d been dreaming of Youngbae leaning over him, close enough to kiss. That he’d dreamed of Youngbae in the open window, looking at him with a possessive gleam in his eyes and protectiveness in his stance.

He  _ couldn’t _ tell Youngbae that. They’d barely known each other 2 whole weeks.

“Have you ever wanted someone to watch over you while you slept?” Youngbae asks, and he seems just as surprised to be asking the question as Jiyong is to be hearing it.

He takes a second to consider, and then shrugs, willing his face not to flush. “The right person, yeah, a little bit. Maybe less ‘watch over’ and more ‘be there’.” he says. Part of him really wants Youngbae to say that  _ he’ll _ be there, but he knows that’s silly; Youngbae couldn’t possibly feel that way about him.

Youngbae nods, his eyes very obviously running over his face. It makes him wonder, and not for the first time, if Youngbae could see better in the dark than he gave him credit for. “I can understand that.” He says softly, and Jiyong looks away and back toward the house.

~~~~~~

If looks could kill, and Youngbae still isn’t certain that they can’t, then the look Daesung is giving him right now should end him.

“You’ve had an  _ entire month. _ ” Daesung says, carefully and evenly. His arms are folded across his chest as he stares Youngbae down in front of the cabin. “A full lunar cycle, and all you did was go and make  _ moon eyes _ at him?”

Youngbae takes in a deep breath, prepared to tell Daesung that that’s unfair, when the reality of it really sinks in: it’s the first night of the moon. He closes his eyes and pinches at the bridge of his nose. “I don’t  _ know,  _ Daesung! I just. I lost track of time, I wasn’t paying attention….”

Daesung shakes his head. “You need to tell him  _ today. _ ” He says, tone a little harsh. “Because until you do, you’re a hazard to yourself and others, and you  _ know this. _ ”

Youngbae makes a pained noise, but Daesung just raises an eyebrow. “I know.” He mutters finally. He rubs a hand over his face and then hesitates.

“You should go change, probably.” Daesung says, looking him up and down. He’d been at the store that morning, and Daesung had accosted him just after he’d gotten back from his shift.

He nods and goes to change. He agonizes over what to wear for a short while, before deciding that jeans and a tank will be fine; Jiyong seems to like his arms...maybe it will work in his favor? He shakes his head at himself, but grabs his leather vest (Jiyong seemed to like him in leather, too) and makes his way outside. He pauses for a moment, trying to decide if he should drive there instead. He looks up at the sky, and then sighs, heading for one of the resort jeeps.

Everything about him is anxious and too much. He’s sweating, his hearing and sense of smell are super sensitive…

He sits in the jeep for a couple of minutes, his head against the steering wheel, after he pulls up to Jiyong’s house. How is he supposed to tell him? What is he supposed to say? The entire area smells like Jiyong, and he’s miserable and anxious, but he still hears when Jiyong opens the front door.

“Youngbae?” Jiyong asks, confusion coloring his voice. Youngbae takes in a deep breath and sits up before slowly getting out of the car.

He forces a comfortable smile onto his face, the kind he wears when Jiyong’s been holding onto his arm for too long and he has to pretend that he’s not affected, and walks up the steps of the porch. “Hey.” He says, his eyes crinkling up just a little.

“Why are you here?” Jiyong asks, and he’s clearly still confused, stuck on something. He shakes his head. “No, sorry, I didn’t mean...I  _ want _ you to be here but…” He trails off, going red. “Aren’t you supposed to be camping?” He asks, and Youngbae laughs, soft and embarrassed.

“Ah, yeah.” He says, then he takes a deep breath and gestures to the porch swing he’d helped Jiyong carry up there two weeks previously. “I actually wanted to talk to you about that…” he says, and Jiyong sits down, confusion still firmly on his face as he watches Youngbae move to lean against the railing in front of him.

“I don’t camp.” He says warily, and Youngbae’s surprised into a laugh. Jiyong scowls slightly, face going red.

“Sorry, no. I know you don’t camp.” He says, leaning forward just a little. “I just, you surprised me, that’s all. I’ve just been so focused on what I’m going to say that I didn’t expect…” He trails off, getting nervous again. He rubs his hand over the back of his neck.

“Alright, then what…?” He asks, because now he’s more than confused, now he’s  _ bewildered _ mixed with  _ worried _ and Youngbae can smell the worry and see the confusion.

“We don’t go camping every month.” He says on an exhale, then shakes his head. “No, wait, I can explain this better don’t say anything yet.” He adds almost immediately, holding his hand up when Jiyong opens his mouth like he’s going to say something. “Every month I have to stay away from people for five nights...we can’t be around anyone...no humans…”

Jiyong, who’d stayed valiantly silent despite clearly wanting to be upset with Youngbae for lying to him, splutters at this. “If this is your idea of ‘better explanation’ then I really…” He trails off, arms crossing over his chest and eyebrow raised.

Youngbae presses his eyes closed and shakes his head. “I don’t have...there’s no good way to explain this.” He huffs out a breath, looking dejected. He’s silent for a moment, and then. “I’m a werewolf.” He says, eyes swinging up to meet Jiyong’s. “It’s why I have to be away for five days every month. It’s dangerous..during the moon…”

Jiyong’s mouth is open slightly, incredulity is warring with genuine shock. Youngbae can see the way Jiyong’s blind trust in Youngbae is fighting hard against his stubborn practicality; but Jiyong’s a writer, and an imaginative one at that.

“Werewolves aren’t real.” He says softly, seeming to be almost more hurt by this than by the thought that Youngbae had lied about camping.

“They are real,  _ we _ are real.” He runs a hand over his face. “Being near you right now is so hard for me.” He says, and his voice cracks. He’s fidgeting, has been since he got out of the jeep but it’s worse now, worse now that he’s told Jiyong what he is and Jiyong doesn’t believe him. “You smell like tangerines and coffee and dark chocolate.” He whispers. “And sometimes bitter, like anxiety, and sweet like happiness.” he adds, looking away. “It’s worse now, it’s stronger closer to the full moon. When the sun sets I won’t be myself. All I’ll be is a body with the mind of a wolf, and I’ll  _ still _ only think about the smell of tangerines and coffee and dark chocolate.” He stops, looking down at his hands because Jiyong’s quiet, and he hasn’t moved.

And this wasn’t a confession. It was a muddled cob job. He can’t even put together where the parts of the confession were supposed to have been. Did he actually tell Jiyong anything useful? What had he said?

Jiyong laughs, suddenly. “Tangerines, coffee, and dark chocolate?” He asks, and Youngbae looks up at him. “Really?” He wrinkles his nose. “I don’t even  _ like _ dark chocolate.” He says, and Youngbae chokes out a laugh.

“I’m sorry, it’s just what…” he trails off though, because Jiyong is giving him a look.

“So....you're a werewolf and I smell like chocolate?” He asks, and Youngbae shrugs.

“Very simply put, but basically, yes.” He says, and he's smiling just a little.

Jiyong tilts his head to the side, very clearly sizing him up. “And you decided to tell me this today because?”

Youngbae pulls in a breath through his nose while his teeth pull his bottom lip into his mouth. He's silent for a moment, just looking at Jiyong, trying to decide what to say. “Because I like you.” he says softly, simply. “Because if I go in tonight without having told you…” He shakes his head and looks away.

Jiyong is silent for a moment, and Youngbae can smell the shifting emotions as they touch upon him: surprise, anxiety, happiness, and that smell that he'd been unable to place...that soft sweet smell.

“What would happen?” Jiyong asks after a couple of seconds. “What would have happened if you hadn't come here?”

Youngbae fights the urge to say that it still might because nothing has been confirmed between them yet. “Do you remember, after I came back a few weeks ago, and you told me that you'd had a dream? Dreamed that someone was standing over you while you slept?” 

Jiyong nods, brows furrowed for a moment before his face clears and he looks up at Youngbae with wide eyes. “That was real?” He breathes out, and Youngbae nods slowly.

“I broke out of the camp to come find you...I guess. It's hard to really remember or understand what I'm thinking when I'm like that…” He trails off, but before Jiyong can think of anything to say, he shakes his head. “if I'd run into anyone...if someone had been in your  _ house _ …” He trails off as a possessive growl tries to force its way out of his throat, a shudder passing through him at the thought. He keeps his face averted.

Jiyong watches him for a moment, then sighs. “I feel like you're missing an important detail here. Why does it matter so much? Why wouldn't you hurt me but you'd hurt someone else? Isn't the problem with being a werewolf that you'd hurt anyone?”

Youngbae takes in a deep breath and turns to look at him. “I would...but I'd never hurt you. Not ever.” He shakes his head, closing his eyes briefly before letting out a slightly amused snort. “ _ Lying _ to you hurts. Not seeing you hurts. I couldn't hurt you, it would be so much worse.”

Jiyong raises an eyebrow at him, and stays silent. Youngbae sighs, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck.

“You're my mate.” He says softly, but Jiyong just tilts his head forward like he hadn't heard, and it's so very affected that Youngbae can't help but to rolls his eyes. “You’re my mate.” He says again. “I could never hurt you, I can barely function without you anymore.”

Jiyong’s still silent, but now there’s a new expression on his face, one that Youngbae can’t quite figure out how to place. “You’re mate.” He says after a moment, and Youngbae nods, but Jiyong’s not looking. He leans forward on the swing, and studies the floor for a moment. “That’s really a thing?” he asks after another moment, and Youngbae nods.

“Yeah. It really is.”

Jiyong looks up at him then, like he’s contemplating how to react. “So I’ve been trying to pretend I’m not attracted to you for  _ weeks _ now, because it felt so sudden and was so surprising, and there was no need? I could have just kissed you and been done with it?”

Youngbae chokes, surprised by Jiyong’s admission. It was frank, a little unhappy, and very Jiyong. “If you’d just kissed me out of the blue I might have had a heart attack.” He says, still reeling from Jiyong’s words.

Jiyong looks up at him, an amused smile playing at the edges of his lips for a moment. He falls back into contemplation though, and levels Youngbae with a serious look. “You’ve told me.” He says, tilting his head to the side. “I’ve told  _ you, _ so now will you be able to sleep the night away at camp?”

Youngbae’s uncertain what kind of answer Jiyong’s looking for, but all Youngbae can do is tell him the truth now. Jiyong smells like happiness tinged with anxiety and it makes him sweat just thinking that Jiyong might be scared of him. “No. No because I need you.” He says, and he’s startled that he’s said it like that, and Jiyong’s eyes snap back to his with full attention. “But I won’t hurt you. I’d never hurt you. I’ll just...If this is all you’ll give me then I’ll make do.” He says, looking away. “I’ll go back, I’ve only got another hour...I’ll go back and Daesung and the others will lock the door, try to keep me contained...it’ll be easy tonight.” He shrugs, almost like he’s unconcerned.

But Jiyong  _ is _ concerned, and he makes a soft noise, standing up to meet him. “What will help?” he asks, and Youngbae looks at him, eyes wide and really wanting to answer him.

“It’s not…” He trails off as Jiyong reaches up to brush his fingers over Youngbae’s face and back into his hair. 

“Don’t have a heart attack, okay?” He says, and then leans forward, pressing their lips together gently.

He doesn’t have a heart attack, but it’s a near thing. 

He breathes out harsh through his nose, his hands coming up to grab at Jiyong’s waist before wrapping around him and pulling him closer. His eyes are pressed tightly shut because there’s so much happening it’s sensory overload and all that he is now is Jiyong’s smell and taste and touch. He makes a whining sound low in his throat, and Jiyong leans his head back, a small laugh bubbling up and out of his mouth.

“Still with me?” He asks softly, and Youngbae opens his eyes to look at him. 

“Yes, always yes.” He whispers out. His phone rings then, and he tries to ignore it, but Jiyong laughs and slips his hand into his pocket to pull it out.

“Should you answer?” He asks as he pulls it out, and Youngbae’s still stuck on the kiss, his hands still locked tight around Jiyong’s back. “Right, then.” He says, answering the phone and putting it up to his own ear. “Hello? No, this is Jiyong.” He flicks his eyes back up to Youngbae’s, a soft grin breaking out as he catches Youngbae’s eyes. “No, he’s being very quiet right now. Mhmm, so you suggest---oh? Alright, I’ll keep him, then.” He hangs up and tucks the phone back into Youngbae’s back pocket, as if the entire conversation hadn’t just happened.

Youngbae makes a sour face at him. “What did Daesung want?” He asks, and Jiyong only seems mildly surprised that he knows who had called. 

“He says I should keep you tonight.” He says delicately, his cheeks coloring just a little as if his boldness may soon peter out. “Says just  _ telling _ me won’t make you any less of a  _ problem. _ ”

Youngbae’s eyes close a little in embarrassment and he pulls Jiyong against him for a close hug. “I’ll go back now.” He says softly, voice almost lost against Jiyong’s loose sweater. “We’ll talk again after the moon.” He says, even though the only thing he wants to do, for the rest of his life, is  _ stay here. _

Jiyong’s confidence returns gradually as they stand there, but it’s back by the end of Youngbae’s words and he laughs softly. “No, no you’ll stay here tonight and we’ll do this properly.” He says, and  _ god _ does he want to. He’d let Youngbae take him right there on the porch if he asked; but Youngbae  _ won’t _ ask because he’s just  _ that good  _ of a person.

Youngbae holds him tightly, eyes closed and nose pressed into the crook of his neck. “Okay.” He breathes out after a moment. He presses a kiss to Jiyong’s throat, and backs up just a little. “Okay.”

***

It’s 2am when Jiyong is woken up by warm lips pressed against his throat and hot hands dragging down his naked sides. “Bae?” He asks, confusion and sleep lacing his tone. He’d fallen asleep before Youngbae had been noticeably any different, so the lack of response confuses him. “Bae?” He asks again, just a little more clearly as the lips move along the base of his throat and to the other side.

The lips pause, and there’s a soft growling sound that resonates through Jiyong’s body from where the lips are resting. Jiyong, heart beating fast and erratic now, reaches up and grasps Youngbae’s face, tilting it up to look at him. “Shhh, Bae, it’s alright.” he murmurs, eyes sweeping over his features.

He doesn’t look much different, now, but there’s a wildness in Youngbae’s eyes, like he’s perpetually distracted and the only thing keeping him where he is is Jiyong. They look at each other for a moment, then Youngbae makes a slight whining noise, and presses forward, capturing Jiyong’s lips in a bruising kiss that he was not prepared for, but that he accepts willingly.

He could get used to this, he thinks, sometime later when Youngbae has curled up against his side again. This could be alright.


End file.
